


Coalesce

by Sordid_Skeleton



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game), Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls II
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Time, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Neck Kissing, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, enough sweet smut to choke an anthill, fluffy sex, graphic smut, hasn't been beta read. good luck with that, some canon typical death of enemies in the beginning, the rest of the stuff? not remotely canon, thirst ahead - Be wary of thirst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 09:32:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14054010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sordid_Skeleton/pseuds/Sordid_Skeleton
Summary: A little push can drastically change the nature of a partnership. Especially if the push is from a giant dog with a thousand razor teeth.





	Coalesce

**Author's Note:**

> A huge shoutout to my buddy mechbreaker for talking about this fic with me so often, they really helped to get me to finish this.
> 
> Honestly, try not to think too hard about the highly unlikely premise of the hunter being flung into the post drangleic age of the era of fire, since I mostly wrote this after seeing really good fanart. I mean, the soulsborne fandom has a lot of really talented artists! And the works of a couple of them are what compelled me to write this bit of unnecessarily saccharine porn. Also, the fact that nobody has written content for this pairing compelled me to write this. Because sometimes you just REALLY need to read content of a specific dude rearranging another dudes organs
> 
> Now that I'm done, I'm gonna go take a nice coma.

Neither the Hunter nor the Bearer of the Curse were strangers to fighting off hordes – beast or otherwise. What they found out of the ordinary however, was the fact that their current enemies were displaying a degree of coordinated behavior and cooperation. Slamming the saw cleaver into the sternum of the hound hurdling towards his chest, the Hunter hurriedly checks behind him to gauge how the Bearer is faring.

The numbers of the pack long since apparent to them, they'd immediately faced back-to-back to face the onslaught. Noting that the Curse Bearer maintained all his limbs and the capacity to swing both weapons, the Hunter rapidly strafes left to avoid the two maws that threaten to shred his calves to ribbons. Pursuing the two new guests within their vicinity, the Curse Bearer hauls each of his greatswords over his head and slams them towards the earth, the bulk of each sword meeting their targets with dual crunches of bone and flesh. The strength behind the swings don't escape the Hunter when he sees the bodies.

‘ _Fucking hell_ ,’ The Hunter bitterly thinks. ‘ _It’s always hounds_.’

As the ordeal progresses the Hunter darts his eyes to the surrounding wood when the chance permits. Squinting, he sees a large form slinking about the underbrush. In the most recent sighting he finds that it possesses a thick, gnarled, and bony tail that moves as it slinks about. Whatever the creature is it's been gaining ground on them, and has only chooses to move in the heated instants the Hunter is forced to focus his attention on another fetid beast. Just great.

The Hunter scoffs, he doesn't have to be up close and personal with the thing to know that the hounds weren’t the only beasts seeking their hides.

The Bearer moved the familiar bulk of his back to that of the Hunter and looked over his shoulder to the form in the woods whilst flinging the viscera off his right sword.

“So you’ve noticed it too then?” The Hunter asks, not taking his eyes off the threatening audience.

“Yes.” The Bearer replies, returning to focus on the hound approaching his front.

“Before these..." The Bearer squints at the mangled body of the beast he recently killed.  "Hounds? Yes, before these hounds came upon us, I found that something had been following us at quite the distance.” 

  
Whipping out his crossbow, the Hunter careens the head of it at another encroaching hound and takes aim. He shoots one, two, three arrows at it before it collapses. He finds he misses the fast work of his firearm. While reloading more arrows the Hunter looks to the Curse Bearer as he nods his thanks to him before continuing.

“These hounds only turned aggressive as that creature began making its way towards us. Unless I’m mistaken, I do believe we’ve found a way to earn the ire of the resident pack leader.” The Bearer finishes.

Huffing, he returns to his stance behind the Bearer. When he looks back to the underbrush, the creature is gone. Darting his eyes to either side of the trees nearby, the realizes the creature has apparently scurried out of their range of vision in the time he was preoccupied with the recent beast. _Shit._

Tightening the grips on his cleaver and crossbow the Hunter turns to alert the Bearer but has the warning cut short in his throat when a hurtling mass shoves him to the ground beneath him – his skull being the first part of him to be introduced to the earth. Regardless of the bleariness, the Hunter has no need to see his assailant clearly to be able to smell its identity. Before he can defend against the hound he feels a wetness bloom from his upper arm and creep downwards, followed by a grating agony as the hound buries its jaws into him.

Gritting his teeth, the Hunter struggles for his crossbow in a last-ditch effort to bash aside the feral assailant's jaws. The Hunter’s attempts to reach it becoming progressively fervent as the hound releases his arm in favor of moving its shredding fangs to his vulnerable neck. Feeling its breath draw closer, he is slapped by the grave realization that he won't be able to grab it before the hound sinks its teeth into his windpipe. His fingers momentarily halt in their motion for the crossbow at the fact.

Miraculously, the weight of the hound rapidly lifts off him as it if it had spontaneously taken to the air. Free from the breath threatening his throat and the mass weighing down his chest, the Hunter takes a seething intake and forces himself to his feet. Grabbing the cleaver and crossbow off the dirt, the Hunter wheels about searching for his would-be killer, high off adrenaline and sweat clinging ti his brow. Recalling the imposing figure from earlier, his scans the underbrush for the earlier figure.

  
In his search the Hunter recognizes the source of his salvation – the Bearer had dashed to his aid in the nick of time and punted the offending hound off his chest. Glancing to the ground near the Bearer’s feet, he finds that the he has recently finished it off - if the decapitated head and forelimbs laying two feet away aree anything to go by.

Leaving his work, the Curse Bearer turns to the Hunter. “Are you well?” He asks.

“Fine.” The Hunter brusquely replies. He walks to the Bearer to close the distance. “We're still surrounded, we should remain close we _need_ -“

“We need to be done with it. Yes.” The Bearer interrupts. He lays a gauntleted hand over the Hunter’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “Take a look around perhaps?”

The Hunter surveys the area and finds that the remaining numbers of the horde are beginning to dissipate, and the creature from earlier was absent in every direction – evidently deterred by the recently displayed brutality. He double takes when he see's one of the beasts skulking off with its tail between its legs. He heaves out a relieved breath at the sight, rests a hand over his forehead, and returned his attention to the Bearer.

“Well, this is thanks to your handiwork! Looks like sheer brutality proves its merits once again.” The Hunter says, a grin apparent in his voice.

In response the Bearer lets out a chuckle, the laugh warm and mirthful despite the brevity. “You're too kind to regard me so highly. Still, we would do best to remain on guard. I hardly think this encounter is-“

The Hunter never heard the Bearer of the Curse finish his words, never hears him speak them in the first place. When the Bearer chuckles, the Hunter sees the looming shadow blocking the sunlight behind him. Without thought nor word he grabs the Bearer by the fur upon his pauldrons and _yanks_ both their weights away from the shadow.

  
When they regain their footing, the Bearer looks to where the Hunter's eyes focus and notices the shadow in time for it to grow and altogether be replaced by the snarling bulk of the monstrosity as it lands to the earth with its gnarled tail swishing about. The creature growls, the intensity seemingly strong enough to rattle the gravel upon the earth. Then, it opens its vile jaws and reveals the stained fangs and canines that promise a wretched paroxysm of piercing crunches to its targets.

‘ _The trees! By gods, the trees! How did I forget the trees!_ ’ The Hunter screams to himself.

Unwilling to allow the beast a chance to take first blood, the Hunter automatically extends his cleaver and strikes the beast upside the jaw. Mildly disappointed by the absence of gushing blood, he notes the attack does not have as much force behind it as he would have liked. Regardless the Hunter knows that even if he had chanced taking any longer to draw back his cleaver he knew he risked losing it alongside his arm.

The Hunter rapidly sidesteps to the creature’s left in time to avoid the its retaliation with its teeth. Following the Hunter with its jaws, the creature makes the mistake of taking its eyes off the Bearer. Not one to abandon an opening, the Bearer lifts each of his greatswords and strikes. He swings each blade across the body of the beast, slashing them into its torso and leaving dual, gaping lacerations that stretch from the middle of its ribcage and tear up to its shoulder. Howling in agony, the beast manipulates its bony tail like a whip and strikes the Bearer’s chest, knocking him away. The contact itself audible throughout the wood as he's thrown back with a shattering _thwack_! The Bearer’s chest plate absorbs much of the force, but the attack itself packs enough vitriolic force that the Bearer finds himself stunned and the breath all but thrashed out of his lungs.  
\--  
‘ _So, hindquarters are out of the question then._ ’ He blearily notes.

Heaving breath through gritted teeth, the Bearer glances to the Hunter as he continues assailing the beast with the serrated edges of his cleaver. He tears his eyes away to avoid staring at quick-footed movements the Hunter employs to evade the beasts own assault. Which is difficult given the calculated grace by which the Hunter's legs carry him and how the ends of coat ghost along his every move. Remembering the recent strike, he frowns at the knowledge that lacking the plating and protection he possessed, one attack would be enough to render the Hunter’s flesh to a bloodied puree. Gritting his teeth, he stands – resolution powering each motion - and grasps the hilt of each sword with white-knuckled grips before charging.  
\--  
Shooting an arrow into beast’s hide, the Hunter hears the rapidly approaching steps of the Bearer. Not able to spare any attention to look to his direction, he focuses on maintaining his own assault. The beast maintains its fixation on him, continuing to snap its jaws with relentless tenacity. He had considered cutting the fight short by shooting an arrow into its maw, but the ferocity of its attacks indicated that it would not permit him the time to implement that idea. Pulling away the cleaver, he prepares another swing at its side whittle away the beast’s vigor. The crack of serrated metal against bone followed by a shred into hide is what he can manage before bolting away from the retaliating tail.

Even when  he escapes the beast’s proximity the Hunter isn't willing to take aim with the crossbow. His adversary was in equal measures brutal and swift, and if it closed the distance while he took aim a hundred arrows wouldn’t be enough to save his skin. Ready for the beast’s next action, the Hunter readies to deliver the next blow the second its miserable hide drew close enough to him.

Now the glint of steel and the ensuing wailing, he did not anticipate. Flashing his eyes above the beast, he discovers the Bearer upon the back of the beast. He is hunched over, having plunged each of his greatswords behind the beast’s shoulder blades. The blood splattering the to ground draws his eyes to the ends of each blade glinting out the beast’s chest. The Hunter steps back as the beast struggled forward regardless of its grave injury. It manages to hobble once, thrice, before collapsing. Satisfied, the Bearer withdraws his blades from its husk and hops off. He pauses to shake the gore off one before lifting it over the shoulder before speaking.

“Everything intact?” He asks.

“Well. I have to say,” The Hunter watches the Bearer stroll towards him, fighting a losing battle against the smirk crawling on his face. “I should be the one asking that. If memory serves, I wasn’t the one who was lobbed halfway through the woods with the flick of a tail. But never mind that.”  
He looks to the body of the beast as the Bearer merely ‘hmmphs’ in response.

“You have a real knack for grand entrances, don’t you?” He hopes the fondness isn't overtly obvious in his voice.

The Bearer raises a hand in mock defense. “Oh what to do now, you've figured me out.” He jokes.

Waiting for the Hunter to finish chortling he presses on. “Not every chance to strike may always be well worth the risk, but I’m pleased with this outcome at the very least.”

“The beast is far beyond its last dredges now. I aimed to end the ordeal, the damage done to its innards have no doubt accomplished that.”

He rests a hand on the Hunter’s uninjured shoulder again, stealing the Hunter’s attention away from the beast. “I see no reason to remain here. Let’s be on our way.”

Content with the beast’s shallow breaths himself the Hunter turned to walk with the Bearer back towards Majula. He didn’t think much about the way the Bearer’s gaze had lingered on him as he caught up. After all, having beaten a stubborn horde it was necessary to watch over each other to prevent any further injury or disaster. Mind beginning to ease, he focuses on the path ahead. The previous adrenaline rush dissipating, the Hunter allows his thoughts to wander.

Miserably, his thoughts are jarred and sent careening into oblivion when, yet another force shoves him forward from behind. His face smooshing into a something soft, he is unable to attack before collapsing to the earth all over again. Threads of fury curled throughout his veins at having been slammed to the ground for the second damn time. Raising his head to where the beast lands, he feels no remorse at the sight ahead of him.

The beast, in its abnormal resilience had delivered one final lunge at him, but merely overshot and only succeeded in knocking the Hunter forward as opposed to wrenching away a limb from him. It collapsed to the ground; its final gambit having been too much for its own body to bear. The Hunter glares at the beast’s form with hesitant satisfaction.

  
When he feels the ground beneath him shift, a spear of shock blasts through his heart. Reluctantly, he looks beneath him and can physically feel the spear of shock in his heart splinter into a thousand arrows of mortification throughout his entire very being. He was lying on top of the Bearer, legs splayed over his thighs, face previously buried in his neck, crotch flush against his. Inwardly, he curses the beast with every fiber of his soul. For in death it had been able to escape while the Hunter was left to grapple with the earth shattering predicament it left him in.

The woods were silent. As if every animal, tree, and bug caught wind of the predicament unfolding and were averting their attention. The low lighting and the Bearer’s helm obfuscates the other man’s expression. His silence and lack of further action are baffling and concerning, two sensations which were roiling within the Hunters’ mortified gut. The Bearer sounds as if he opened his mouth to say something but ultimately produces nothing. He weakly lifts his gauntleted hands in a motion to move himself, but instead they fell flat back onto the ground. The Hunter made to move off the Bearer but halted abruptly at the jolt of pleasure that shot up his spine. He was hard. He was hard against a surface that was equally hard. He’d managed to grind against the Bearer while trying to get up. Gulping, the Hunter hopes that by some miracle the Bearer hadn’t noticed.

The Hunter prayed he didn’t notice. He begged whatever clawed, tentacled, writhing-faced being that would listen that the man beneath him was not noticing the rigid member that was very much pressed up against his own. He _beseeched_ that the Bearer could not hear how his breath had hitched at the sensation, how the beat of his heart had veered into a turbulent staccato. If the heavens had any shred of sympathy for him, it was the blessing that at least his mask remained on his face and permitted him that one shield to hide behind.

Coughing, the Bearer of the Curse was the first to break the staggering silence. “We should head back. Before every hound from hither and yon finds us.”

  
\---

  
The hush in the woods had been heavy, but the silence along the path to Majula is deafening. They walk along the paths in silence, cleaned up at a nearby stream in silence, and entered one of the old houses in silence. Ignoring the allure of the bound books on the ground floor, the Hunter turns to enter one of the corridors and ascends the stairs while the Bearer remained planted by the door. Stepping into one of the rooms, the Hunter rests his weapons on the table after lighting a lamp and plops down on one of the mats. Head in his hand, he lets out a desolate sigh.

  
His heart though calmer than earlier, still clings to a flittering beat. His mind at least, was faring better at this point. Seeing no use in lying to himself, the Hunter faces the facts. While practically entwined with one another there was no way the Bearer could have not felt him grind against him, and the Hunter could not pretend he hadn’t felt the Bearer’s reciprocate briefly. Neither, could he pretend that they could continue across Drangleic pretending that the encounter never happened.

The Hunter was no blithe ingénue. He knew that the Bearer of the Curse held fondness for him. It was palpable in his warm laugh, he could feel in in the hands when they settles a heavy grip upon his shoulder. He already knew that he himself, had grown fond towards the strong man. As the weeks passed he recognized the Bearer as downright reliable, and as someone he could relax around.

When the Hunter had first become ill, up until the time where he became a hunter and entered the hunt, companionship had been cripplingly barren. The Hunter couldn't deny that that he found the other man striking. The strength those hands possessed, the power his arms commanded, the warmth evident in his voice behind each laugh. All those traits had him gravitating towards the other man.

  
No matter his fear, no matter how his heart shook at the idea of talking out the events with him, the Hunter knew the topic would have to arise. He’d rather bear the awkwardness of that conversation than allow the companionship between them sputter out and fade, platonic or otherwise.

He stares desolately at the candleflame, as if when put under enough scrutinous intensity it could impart wisdom to him.

The Hunter hears the Bearer approach the room long before he sees him. He looks to the sound of the Bearer’s feet at the rooms entrance. The Bearer nods to him, settling his greatswords against the wall-corner before entering the room. He meanders around the table until he's next to the Hunter and sits.

The Bearer turns to the Hunter, “How is your arm faring?”

He hadn’t been prepared for any conversation yet. "Come again?"

“When one of the hounds latched onto you earlier? It drew quite a bit of blood from you if I recall.”

“It’s gotten better. Right, thanks again. For getting it off.” The Hunter could slap himself at the simple response.

“It’s of no consequence, I’m merely glad I could reach you in time.”

Then the Bearer was silent, considering his next words. He continued, “If you’d permit me, may I look over it?”

  
_That_ caught the Hunter off guard. He swallows, “Sure.”

The Hunter’s overcoat hits the floor, his gloves and hat following in a small pile. The Bearer fixes his eyes to the nearby wall, averting his eyes in courtesy as the Hunter’s fingers make quick work of the buttons and buckles on his vest. Tossing the vest and shirt with the rest, he reaches for the mask concealing the lower half of his face but thought better of it.

“Go ahead.”

The even tone of the Hunter’s voice belies the knots furling in his stomach. He shifts so that his back was facing the Bearer to permit access to his wounded shoulder. Which just happened to also be ideal for avoiding looking the other man in the eye.

  
He heard shuffling behind him, then the noise of a metallic object being cast to the wooden floor. Fingertips grazed the heated skin of his shoulder and he suppressed a jolt when they slid across his skin to their destination. Silent in his endeavor the Bearer moves his fingers to where the injury used to lie and scrutinizes the skin that used to be marred by fangs. His fingers spread out over his shoulder and lay against it in a barely-there pressure that the Hunter fights not to lean into.

“Your ability to heal never ceases to amaze me.” He says.

A tingle creeps up the Hunters spine at hearing that. He turned to reply but his mind came up short. What would he even say to that?

The warmth on his shoulder disappears, and he hears the Bearer walk away. Mind fretting the Hunter stands, wrangles his nerves, and blurted his thoughts. “I’m sorry for earlier.”

Stopping in his tracks, the Bearer affixes him with his attention again from the table.

Regretting the tactless outburst, the Hunter face-palms and rakes a hand down his masked face. Heaving a sigh, he resigns himself and presses on, hand wildly gesticulating to enunciate his words.

“What happened was entirely inappropriate. Please trust when I say that I had no intention to impose upon your space like that. You’ve looked out for me on many occasions, and I should have reciprocated by never turning my back on that beast."

He lets his hands fall to his sides. "I shouldn’t have allowed the opportunity where that outcome could have played out.”

The room was silent, save for the sound of the crashing waves through the window. Despite the Hunter having poured out his thoughts the Bearer remained silent through it all. The Bearer wanted to speak, to ease his friend's concern. He had completely understood the Hunters’ words but wanted to take time to process his own response. Gathering his thoughts, the Bearer removes his helm and sets it on the table. He walks to the Hunter, lays a heavy hand upon each bare shoulder, and looks him in the eyes. If the possibility exists where they both share interest in one another... then he is willing to risk a chance to close the valley between them.

“I’ve never once worried that you’d attempt to prey upon me or do me harm when I turn my back. My friend. When I look to you I am reassured knowing you are there to safeguard my blind spots. I’ve seen how you inspect the world around you with sharp eyes, and I know your senses to be reliable.”

The Bearer moves a smidge closer to the Hunter and lowers his voice a notch. “My dear friend.” He reiterates, “Worry not for what happened earlier. I trust your judgement with my being, and thus I know the virtue of your actions to be true. If being entangled with you is the worst outcome to come from a skirmish, I think I would engage in them with more regularity.” With bated breath he finishes, awaiting the Hunter's response.

The Hunter was gobsmacked at the words spoken to him. He wonders if the ground his skull smacked is causing him to hear things, but no. The hands encompassing his shoulders are proof of the Bearer’s words, the eyes looking into his own a continued reassurance. What he could not decipher – was afraid to – was whether his attention lay in merely brotherly affection, or could be, was hopefully, laden with amorous tenderness and more. Emboldened by the hands on his skin, his lifts his own and sets them on the Bearer’s midsection, right below where his chest plate began.

Internalizing his glee at the reciprocation, the Bearer moves his sole unarmored hand to drift from the Hunter’s bare shoulder and up along the warmth of his neck to rest on a cheek. Languidly, the Hunter leans into the hand cupping his face and closes his eyes. In no world could he have imagined their conversation playing out like this - touching each other, fighting back how besotted for one another they'd become. He was close to protesting when the hand left his face but banished the thoughts when a finger slid beneath the fabric of his mask and pulled. The Hunter takes a shaking breath as the cool night air hits the newly exposed skin. 

Eyes meeting, the Bearer leans his face downward. The Hunter rose to his toes – reaching the other halfway – and shuts his eyes when they meet. The Bearer’ lips were warm, felt firmer than his own, and were pressing further into him. He angles his head for better access and shudders at the exhilaration that surges into his blood when he feels the man groan into the kiss. Breaking the kiss for breath, the Hunter gasps in surprise when he feels the Bearer’s palms lovingly drift down the sides of his ribcage to rest at the small of his back. If he had any residual doubts about the Bearer's fondness, they were routinely bashed away by his roaming hands. Emboldened, the Hunter pushes his body flush against the Bearer’s and leans up to claim another kiss.

The Bearer’s hold on him tightens and the Hunter feels a tongue slide against his lips and retreat. Realizing the unspoken request in the caress, the Hunter slowly opens his lips when he feels the tongue swipe along them again. Jumping at permission the Bearer enters, deepening the kiss and relishing how the Hunters smaller frame melts against his own – his hands clutching at the fur resting upon his pauldrons – as he continues exploring the inviting heat of his mouth. A long moan escaped the Hunters throat that reverberated to the Bearers lips, and he has to pull away to grit his teeth at the sensation that pools in his groin.

He catches the muddled expression on the Hunter’s face. ‘ _As if you could do wrong_.’ He thought.

  
Daring, the Bearer grins to the Hunter and fought back the laugh at the expression he earns. Leaning down, he pecks a kiss to the Hunters lips, gripped his exquisite hips – digging his thumbs in and eating up how they feel in his hands – and proceeds to push their groins together and _grind_.

The Bearer drinks up how the Hunter breaths as if the breath is punched from his gut, each breath drawing forth additional pangs of arousal to dart up his spine when the Hunter immediately reciprocates. He cherished how they moved in sync against each other’s body, fixating on how the Hunter ruts his clothed member against his own aching one. The Bearers hands abandon their positions at the Hunters’ hips and began to explore the expanse of his body. Sensing the hand that snakes from his shoulder to tangle itself in his locks he obeys when the Hunter pulled him down for another hungry kiss.

The Hunter slides his tongue against the one in his mouth, humming when the Bearer leans further into him. Luxuriating in the hands caressing his sides and the small of his back, the Hunter released the grip on the Bearer and wandered his hands down to the opening of the Bearers coat to seek out the sensation of the other man’s skin. Catching the end of the fabric, the Hunter dug his fingers under it and moved them upwards – into the blockade of the Bearers chest plate.

  
The Hunter breaks the kiss and startles the Bearer with the agonized groan that breaks from him at the obstacle in his goal.

How could he fight the frustration that grew in him? He longed to touch the powerful body he knew lay beneath the layers of cloth and metal. The Hunter had seen the strength the man possessed, knew it instinctively by how he swung his swords about. What worth could the knowledge even possess if he couldn’t experience it for himself? He was aching for the sensation of the Bearers skin beneath his hands, mind rapacious to discover the sturdy expanse that lay beneath.

“We really need to get you inside something more comfortable.” The Hunter strains.

“Such as yourself?” The Bearer supplies.

Catching the implication, the Hunter didn’t fight the flush that spread across his face. Unwilling to be beat, the Hunter crams his hands beneath the Bearer’s coattails and _squeezes_ when they hit their target. He grinned exultantly at the strangled sputter he earns from the taller man.

“Point taken.” The Bearer relinquishes.

The Bearer guides one of the Hunters hands to a set of clasps on the side of his chestplate. Catching on, the Hunter set to undo it while the Bearer reached to undo the other side. Task complete, the Hunter watched the Bearer lift the metal – chestplate and pauldrons together – over his head and lay it to the ground. The Bearer leaned down for a chaste kiss, the Hunter accepting it and immediately working to doing away with the next obstacle.

Together they removed the chainmail that covered the Bearer’s chest. It falls to the ground when they finish and went largely ignored when the Bearer and Hunter stepp over it to continue. Chest finally free of all his armor, the Bearer sheds his coat, tears his tunic over his head, and tosses it aside to the ground.

Taking the Hunters hands in his own again, he guided them invitingly until they landed on the exposed musculature of his midriff.

“Better?” He teased.

Unwilling to endure even another second, the Hunter pounces on the Bearer, throwing his arms around his exposed chest so that they were flush to one another. His body singing at the sensational warmth of the Bearers flesh against his frame.

' _God, he’s incredible.'_

The Hunter wanted to dig his fingers into the Bearers shoulder length locks to pull him down and smash their lips together, wanted to grind their members together, he needed-

He needed to wrangle his desire under control. It took a moment to collect the remaining shreds of his wits before he could look up to the Bearer. His heart panged seeing the affectionate gaze directed down at him. Forgetting his exigent need, he reaches his hand towards the scarf around the Bearers neck and in a motion mirroring the Bearers earlier actions, slides a finger beneath the fabric and pulls. The scarf pooling at their feet.

The Bearer leans his forehead against the Hunters own and they stand together in the embrace. Their lips find each other, tongues meeting again, and the Hunter let his hands wander to explore the musculature of the Bearer’s body while encased in his arms. He idly rubs a hand along the Bearer’s back as he focuses his explorations along his front. Hands worked their way up the Bearers abs and their fingertips sunk into the flesh beneath, euphoric at the sensation. A hand continued on its upward journey and stopped at a pec. Before the Hunter could give an experimental grope, the Bearer slides his tongue in a way that has him groaning and limply leaning into his bulk

When they part to regain their breath, the Hunter lays his head against the Bearer’s chest, resting beneath his chin. The intimacy of it all was sheerly intoxicating, even with the high still buzzing through his mind the embrace maintained a soothing hold on him. The Hunter moves to initiate another kiss but is forced to pause at the hand stopping him.

“If you’d like – if you’re comfortable with the idea of it – would you like to continue further..?”

At the hopeful expression on the other man’s face, the Hunter feels insistent desire pooling in his stomach – could feel his heart race all over again at the possibilities behind the suggestion.

“Yes.” He hastily replies. “That sounds great.”

To further punctuate his answer to the proposal the Hunter presses a quick kiss to the Bearer’s neck to communicate his enthusiasm.

Pulling apart, the Bearer led the Hunter back to the mat. Sitting down the Bearer extends his arms in what he hopes seems inviting. Ignoring the knots working their way back into his stomach, the Hunter accepts the gesture and sat on the Bearers crossed legs. He admonished himself for his resurgent shyness, recalling how they had shoved their tongues into each other’s mouth not a minute ago – had _enthusiastically ground_ their arousals together – yet sitting in the Bearers lap had his nerves slithering through him all over again.

This close, the Hunter could hear the other man swallow, “What would you like to do? What do you wish to begin with?”

His body knew the answer before he even vocalized it. “Could – can we pick up where we left off?”

“Certainly.” The Bearer husks.

Sighing into the kiss, the Hunter snaked his hands back around the Bearer and relaxed into the warmth of his chest. Half a minute into the activity he could feel the Bearer’s clothed member hardening insistently against his back despite the layers of cloth between their lower bodies. The feeling had him thinking about what other things they could try together, until he recalled a memory from years ago.

In his earlier years, the Hunter had visited a library and spent hours perusing the contents of its shelves. One of the books that stood out the most had been a supposed biography of an ancient king and the dearest mage who stood at his side, and their _many_ amorous exploits with one another. The first time he had read it, he’d nearly hurled the book to the back of the shelf from sheer embarrassment. Then, overcome by _purely scientific_ curiosity, he returned to the book. He rushed through a few of the books chapters before shelving it with sweat drenched hands and never picking it up again, having never found the guts to do so. One section in particular was been worming into his mind.

Inspired by the memory, the Hunter leans back from the kiss. “Can I try something?” He asks.

“What is it you have in mind?” 

Leaning again, the Hunter palms the Bearers erection through his trousers. “Just trust me?”

“Okay.” The Bearer chokes out.

Heart pounding, he slid off the Bearers lap to sit between his legs and reached forward to unbutton the trousers before him. When the Bearers cock sprung up after being released the Hunter froze and had to piece his demolished thoughts back together. The Bearer was… blessed with remarkable endowment. He was big. The Hunter knew seeing it should not have astonished him as much as it did – he’d been grinding his own hardon against it after all and could feel its size for himself – but seeing it was an entirely different ballpark. He wondered if he could even manage the task that he wanted to try.

“Uh?” The Bearer began.

“I didn’t mean to stare, sorry.” He weakly supplies.

Thinking to the times in the past where he’d pleasured himself the Hunter chose to start by replicating the motions he’d liked best on the Bearer. Reaching forward he began at the base of the Bearers member and began to slowly stroke him, started from the base and gliding his finger up. Encouraged at the groans he was eliciting from him; the Hunter moved his hand to the head of his erection to smear the precum that had been building up from the head and quickened his pace.

Feeling the Bearer lean a hand against his shoulder he looked up and his breath nearly stalled. The Bearer had his head leaning back and had his eyes shut, breaths deep and silent at the Hunters movement. Desire crashing through his veins all over again, the Hunter leaned down and took part of the Bearers length into his mouth and noted the salty taste of the Bearers’ precum spreading over his tongue. When the Bearer’s grip on him turns bruising, the Hunter couldn’t suppress the muffled groan that spilled.

The Hunter had never tried this before – had never so much as touched another man’s cock in his life even – but the grip that remained on his shoulder was encouraging, so he lowered his head further and tried to take in more of the Bearers length. Jaw straining at the effort, the Hunter lifted his head up along his length then descended once more while swallowing the precum that had previously accumulated. Removing his lips from the Bearers cock, the Hunter sucked in the cool air to catch his breath and descended again. Lips reaching the tip, the Hunter took in the head and focused the movement of his tongue against it.

“Stop.” The Bearer grinds out

The Hunter releases the Bearers cock. From all his earlier reactions he’d clearly been enjoying the attention. Had he done something wrong? Concerned, the Hunter pieces words together in his mind to get to the root of the issue, but not before the Bearer moves him back to that they are face to face. The Hunter hurriedly wipes drool from his mouth with as much subtly someone wiping off drool could muster before returning the gaze.

“Are you still fine with all of this?” The Bearer asked.

The Hunter nods. “I’m fine.”

He had been thoroughly enjoying everything thus far, enjoyed experiencing all of it with the Bearer, and the prospect of ending it already left him feeling more disheartened than he was willing to admit.  
  
“Would you like to lie together?” The Bearer proposes.

Now _that_ lifted his hopes up all over again.

“I don’t intend to pressure- “

“Yes.”

The Hunters chest thrills at the Bearers expression. If he kept looking at him like that he’d try anything and everything with him.

“Could you say repeat that?” The Bearer rasps.

“Yes. I said yes. I want to – with _you_ , I- “

The Bearer smashes their lips together before he could finish.

Groaning into the kiss, the Bearer massages the Hunter’s hip as they slid their tongues against one another, not caring he could taste himself on the Hunter’s lips. The Hunter made to reach for the Bearer's erection but couldn’t, not with the Bearer gradually pushing him to lay on his back. Caged in by his arms, the Hunter settles for stroking along the Bearer’s back as they kissed, flickering pleasure trickling all throughout his head. Too soon, the Bearer drew back – a gossamer of saliva between them – and sat on his haunches.

“Sorry in advance.” The Bearer said.

“What-”

Without further warning the Bearer grabs the ends of the Hunters trousers and yanks them off in one fell jerk - the Hunters boxers catching on his ankle. The sudden motion caused him to instinctively draw up.

“A bit more warning next time!” He yelps.

The Bearer removed the article that had caught itself on the Hunters ankle and pressed his lips to the skin.

“Apologies.” Came an affectionate murmur.

The Bearer casts aside his own trousers and returns to the Hunter to trap him between his arms again. The Hunter shivers in anticipation. Merely embracing  him bare chested had been enough to render him intoxicated, now that they were both completely bare what would it even feel like to fully press together?

The Bearer reached back to one of the pouches on his coat and retrieved from it a small glass bottle that was corked shut. The Hunter didn’t have to ask to know what it was for, though he had another question niggling at the back of his mind.

“How long have you been carrying that around?”

Not missing a beat, the Bearer turned to him. “Not long, I picked it up from one of the trunks downstairs some time back.”

Convinced, the Hunter was content to lay there and watch.

The Bearer hid his relief at the Hunter believing his answer, since it had been an absolute lie on his part. He thought the Hunter didn’t need to know that he had actually purchased the bottle from Gilligan. Additionally, the Bearer felt that the Hunter didn’t need to know how _he’d_ been the one to approach Gilligan for the bottle in the first place, nor the currency that hurriedly changed hands. He _especially_ didn’t need to know about the licentious, all-knowing wink Gilligan cast his way after the transaction.

The Bearer moves between the Hunter’s legs and brushed his hands along the length of his legs soothingly, a smile worming across his face at how the Hunter relaxes into the motions. Changing his pace, he moves a hand to one of the Hunters feet and grazed his nails along the arch of the foot, chuckling at how the Hunter’s toes curled from the sensation fizzling throughout. Tempted, he repeats the motion on the other foot, only stopping when the Hunter's foot shoves the offending hands. Satisfied, the Bearer seized each of the Hunter’s thighs and pushed them back to make room for himself.

His mind had been growing addled from desire, so when he hears the audible hiss of pain that comes from the Hunter he was jolted back into clarity. Checking on the Hunter he realizes that he’s stretched the Hunter’s legs apart too far like a brute. He strokes the Hunter’s arousal to ease away some of the discomfort and presses a kiss into a shivering thigh.

“Sorry.” He whispers into him.

Lips still pressed to him, the Bearer sighs. He could sense how the Hunter felt agonizingly vulnerable from being spread in such an open position. It makes him want to embrace him, to smooth away the unease plaguing him. He truly wants to make this experience memorable for him. So he continues pecking kisses along the inner expanse of his thigh, stopping only when he feels the tension melt away and can manipulate the Hunter’s legs more readily.

“Just tell me if you need me to ease up."

Licking his lips, the Hunter watches with slight trepidation as the Bearer reaches for the glass bottle and pours some of the contents into his palm. Then watches perplexed when the Bearer moves to put the bottle away, only to furrow his brow for a second, then pour even more of its contents into his hand before stowing the thing.

_What the hell? Why did he-_

When the Bearer leans close the Hunter feels his sizeable erection rub against his inner thigh.

 _Oh._ Right.

The realization pinged short shivers throughout his body. Whether they were from flickering unease or ardent anticipation, he didn’t have the presence of mind to decipher. The Hunter quivered when he felt the Bearer’s cold, slicked hand rub the base of his cock before slipping down further to prod and circle his entrance. When the first finger went in he was relieved at the lack of discomfort, and let the Bearer continue pumping it into him. When the Bearer adds a second finger, he can’t help the whimper of discomfort that comes from him. He turns his head to the side and hides his face, feeling pathetic at the display.

The Bearer leans his face forward so that his nose is nuzzling the Hunter’s clavicle and breathes in his scent. The contact initially tickles the Hunter, but when the Bearer begins to lick his collarbone it sets his skin aflame. The Bearer languidly licks from his collarbone up to his neck, taking his time to scissor and pump his fingers in the Hunter as he does so. Lips upon his neck, the Bearer nibbles at the receptive skin, brushing his lips along the bites he leaves. The Bearer’s fingers strike something inside him and the Hunters hips buck blindly at the pleasure that sears through his body. He feels the Bearer grin against his neck and is helpless when he pumps his fingers against the same spot, powerless when he moves his tongue across to lick the shell of his ear. When the Bearer adds a third finger inside him the Hunter doesn’t register it amidst the assault on his neck and entrance.

The Bearer pulls away from the Hunter’s neck to look down at him, and his cock twitches painfully at how the he looks. He heaves ragged breaths, and brief moans escape his throat when the Bearer continues to pump his fingers into him. The noise his flesh made while being prepped were encouraging him as it was, but the sounds of his voice are beyond comparison. When the Bearer moves to lavish his neck, he feels the Hunters lips against his own neck, and leans into the teeth that graze over his throat. The Hunter is more aggressive when he fixates on the Bearer’s neck, he leaves marks when he bites him and mends them with idle. Utterly distracted by what the Hunter is doing with his neck, the Bearer unknowingly slows down the fingers inside the Hunter.

He feels the Hunter grinding down on hand to steal more friction, hears the breath that husks along his neck and stops at his ear.

“Don’t stop.” The Hunter whispers, practically pleading.

At that the Bearer pumps a fourth finger into the Hunter, fixating on the sensitive spot within him with cruel precision. The Hunter cries out and the Bearer kisses him with enough force to bruise while drinking his whimpers. He notes the leg that hitches every time he plunges his fingers back into the Hunters with triumph. When he breaks the kiss, the Bearer gazes transfixed as the Hunter struggles for breath while taking the fingers in him. He curls the digits in the Hunter against the vulnerable spot within him and the Hunter’s legs seize when his body is taken by the ravages of the dry orgasm – his hands clutch the Bearer’s sides as pleasure electrifies each fiber of him. When it’s over the Hunter’s head limply drops back and the Bearer mouths the exposed flesh.

Content with his work, the Bearer removes his fingers from within the Hunter and pulls him flush to him by the legs to line his erection with the Hunter’s entrance. Before his restraint snaps, the Bearer returns to check on the Hunter a final time.

“Are you okay to continue? I- “

He is astonished by the exasperated growl that erupts from the Hunter. Impatient, the Hunter hooks a leg around the Bearer before responding.

“You just fucked me with your hand.” He chokes out.

“Whatever you’re going to do. Please, just don’t stop. Not again” The rasps in his voice punctuating his yearning desperation.

Whatever iota of self-control that had been keeping the Bearer from taking the Hunter until they collapsed together was obliterated with that. Bracing his weight on either side of the Hunter’s head he thrust into him, burying the entirety of his length inside. The sensation from the movement knocks the air out of them both and leaves them gasping together. The Bearer bows his head and bites a mark into the Hunter’s shoulder. The Hunter sounds incredible, the walls that tighten around him _mind-blowing_.

“You’re amazing.” The Bearer husks.

The Hunter grabs onto the Bearer’s forearms, holding onto him for dear life when the Bearer sets to assaulting his sensitized body. The Bearer withdraws to the tip and slams back inside him, setting a steady rhythm as he fucks into him.

The Bearer loses himself in the Hunter while his hips slam into him – his world beginning and ending with him when he licks the sweat of his exposed neck, devours the noises he makes, revels in the way his body wraps around his cock. He jerks his hips back and delivers a thrust with brutal precision that has the Hunter choking back moans again. The Hunter’s arms have migrated to the Bearer’s back where he digs crescent marks into his skin – not that the Bearer cares. With another well-aimed thrust into him the white-hot pleasure reaches a zenith within the Hunter again and he comes harder than he ever has with a strangled shout when he bites into the Bearer’s shoulder. His back arches up into him as the climax ravages him, nails scraping harshly down the Bearer’s back while he spurts his completion between their stomachs.

When the Bearer watches the Hunter climax his own thrusts are reinvigorated. His jerks his hips back savagely, madly slamming their hips together to drive deep inside the Hunter. In his frenzy he wrenches cries from the man beneath him in his over sensitized prostate, not letting up even in the Hunter’s post-orgasmic state. The Hunter wraps his legs around his waist to draw him closer and it’s enough to tip the Bearer to his limit. He buries himself to the hilt in him once more, resting his forehead in the crook of the Hunters neck when he spills his completion inside of him.  
When he finishes he lazily moves his face to the Hunter’s to claim another kiss. When they meet the kiss lacks the fervent desire that fueled the previous ones, they’re lips merely resting against each other while they savor each other’s warmth.

The Hunter shifts a bit when he feels the Bearer remove himself from him. He can feel some of his seed leave with him as the Bearer pulls out, though from the lingering warmth that remains in him he knows that most of it remains in him.

 _'How is it still hot…'_  .

Wordlessly, the Bearer drags his long coat over and tosses it over the two of them. The Hunter nestles up against the Bearer’s chest and tangles their legs together when the Bearer slumps and arm around him.

' _Screw it,_ ' he decides. ' _We'll clean up later_.'

The room is dark now, the candle having burnt out some time ago. With their previous anxieties towards each other fully dissolved, they sleep in each others embrace.


End file.
